the 14th has come .....

i wrote this on the 14th of June, but due to some TECHNICAL difficulties could not post it here. :)

The fourteenth of the month. A date that never fails to show up and also, never fails to get the better off me. I get reminded, on every 14^th, of all the fourteenths past. The one on which we first talked ever over the phone. The one which is my birthday. The one on which we met for the first time. The one which is your birthday. The ones we used to celebrate every month. And the one on which you left me. And the ones on which I tried winning you back again. The one that was yours. The one that was mine. The one that was ours. The one that broke our worlds apart. All of them.

This 14^th of June I turned 24. It was my first birthday when you weren’t the first one to call. In fact, on this birthday, no one called. J

I really miss my mom. And my dad. And my brothers.

Its too far away here.

IMMORTAL LEGENDS

I am going to explain to you folks, what immortal legends are. This post was going to be something different but then realization hit like a motherfucker. Its not true what they say about us. We don’t have rock hard bodies. We don’t have cold stone hearts. We don’t like being uncomfortable. And we most certainly don’t enjoy being lonesome, all the time. This might sound senseless, and honestly, it is, but ill still try to make some sense out of this all. Just hang in there.

Ill tell you a story. Our subject is a boy. He is just 8. He likes school, he likes sports. He loves cartoons, he hates girls. He doesn’t cry being subjected to pain. But he can be caught tearing up at some emotional scene. He most certainly does, at patriotic songs. He has aspirations and he dreams too. Time moves on, he grows up. He makes it to high school now. Now high school is different. He likes girls, they fascinate him. A lot. But that is just normal. Most guys his age were fascinated by girls. Theres a girl now. And she is pretty. She knows it and she flaunts it too. Our boy, too scared to talk to her, never does. And that’s about it. But hes seen guys his age having girlfriends. Pretty girls his age, talking to them, flirting with them. And he thinks, it must be so fucking nice, to be a boyfriend. How ultimately awesome would it be to call some girl his “bachi” in front of his classmates. But I guess a school year is only as long.

The kid, all his life, was taught about MORALS. He was taught about being upright. About being brave. How to succeed, how to accomplish. He wasn’t taught about how to just be a human. But instead, how to win and never lose. Now the funny thing about that is, you never are a winner in the truest sense. No prize was ever satiating enough and maybe that’s why we are humans. He was brought up to be a patriot and he believed in dying for a cause. He held on to it and joined the military.

He soon was made responsible. He had men under his direct command. Men that he had to look after like children. Men that would give their life for him, if he were to lead them. Men with only but hope. And then one day, out of nowhere, he thought about what all had happened.

People his age, of his caliber, were out there. Liberal souls, free thinking minds, elated visionaries. But he is just a fauji with just an average perspective. Call him a one track mind if you must. Its not his fault you know, he has seen a very rough time at the academy. Mental torture of the highest grade. He doesn’t think about it much, after all he volunteered for it. His mind is one track, his life is one track. And when he’s 23, he dies. Terrorist attack at his unit, he dies protecting his honor and that of the green flag. The oath that he took, the salutes that he receives. He just dies protecting his one track way of life. Fuck that. Ill give you people a piece of my mind now. National heroes ? fuck that, to you people were just a bunch of posers in uniform. A nation who spits gunk that hurts worse than a kick on the balls. Yeah, that’s what we are guarding. A country which has lost its identity. You Americanized bunch of motherfuckers. You and your fucking parties. Your night outs. Your stay overs. Your weed and your beer. Your mixed gatherings. Your nonchalance. Your girlfriends. Your universities. Your ideas and your ideologies. FUCK YOU. Yeah, that’s right, FUCK YOU .

Dress up in green and paint your girls cheeks with watercolors all you want. You are not a fucking patriot. You will never be one. You hate this land and you loathe the people. You studied at a ritzy college just so that you can leave here. It sucks man. You will never die with honor. Youll die in a bed. Oh you will be surrounded by your loved ones. They will be praying, they will be comforting you. How tasteless a death would that be now. Oh, you will have to die that way. Of disease and of old age.

Not my breed. We will die a bad fucking painful death. But you know what ? itll be FULL of honor. Lieutenant Yasir Abbas Shaheed PN. Im sure you heard about it. Your girl mustve been sad that day. And im sure you cashed that with sympathy and hugs. He was not a son of man. He was an immortal. LION HEART. Destined to be glorious. 14 bullets, dead center in the chest. And he says, “don’t tell my mama”. What kind of a person says that ? What substance is he made of?? That is the substance, HEROES are made of.

I’m 300 miles away from home. Haven’t seen my family in 20 days now. Left without seeing their faces. I want to go out to get a bite some place ritzy. With a girl you know. I think I deserve that. Why, you ask ? Because you are not swinging 25degrees to and fro like a pendulum for the past 20 fucking days now. And its not like you haven’t slept a full night either. I would like a hot meal. At a restaurant with people. Good looking people. Maybe, a girl that could’ve been mine. A song I could’ve sung out for her. Sleep while dreaming. In a warm bed, with a soft linen bedspread.  I wish you could understand. I wish you could see what I see.

You need to straighten out. My people don’t run this country. You guys do. My people will protect it and die doing that. We have been doing it. You know it. Time is high. Too many people, are very far away from their homes, are dying every day, are hunger stricken, are fighting with the elements, have families they love, have dreams they want to chase, have high school crushes they would’ve fallen in love with, but they are doing what must be done. They are human just as much as you are. They are not stone cold, and they aren’t made of rock. Their life has worth and you just put it to shame when you don’t act up your part.

Stop fucking around. Respect the Armed Forces of Pakistan. They’ve bled for this land. Understand our sacrifice. Ehsan nahi hai, magar hum mohsin zaroor hain. Jaan dena ittna asaan nahi.

Dedicated to Lt Yasir Abbas Shaheed PN and the shuhada of PNS MEHRAN. You Sirs, are heroes. Immortal legends.

Rest in peace.   

Nostalgia For Idiots

It’s been a while since the last time I posted anything here. To be honest I was a bit scared, maybe like most things, I had lost at this too. It happens to people, and I am no exception either. Still a bit overwhelmed by things, I decided to actually go ahead and write something here. After all this has been the ears I’ve always waited for. I can pretty much write whatever comes to my mind, and mostly, no matter how stupid it is, I usually do.

Its weird when I think about it. Here I am, on a perfect day, at home, I should be the happiest most satisfied person on the face of this earth, yet I am not. It’s been four long years. Years that have trickled and years that have zoomed. I have been king at times, and I have been a jester too. I have lived and at times died too. I had often imagined about this day, this day that ends an era, and I always have envisioned it to be something real special. Out of this world. And it is too. 

When it was a week away, I had imagined it to be a day when ill party beyond limits. Go out, have multiple treats, invite everyone I know, everyone who doesn’t care about me and everyone who i don’t care about, yet I had planned to be out there, with them, partying the night away. It would be, after all, my big day. But as it came nearer, and nearer, something drew away the desire to go ape. I was steadily being covered in a blanket of nostalgia. Days of the past, when I had talked to people about tomorrow. Memories of the time when I had wanted tomorrow to come. Promises past that I had made to people, and they made to me. All came back to me. And being the average being that I am, I got a bit overwhelmed.

I remember talking to a friend, about an year ago, about how life would change after this day. How I would be better in control of things, and how differently adventurous it would be. And I’m pretty sure, it is too, but somehow, I feel like I have been driven on by a false hope. A false image of things has lured me to this point, where now I feel there’s no turning back, and yet I have to move forth lusting about the next level. Start imagining how different that would be, how happy that would make me. It seems, as if, life has been a liar ever since it started acting up. And even though, I have no option but to believe, I have doubts moving forward.

How the promises broke and how reality hit, I’ll never know. But a part of me still wanted her to be here today. I was never the expectant one, and never will be, but I know, if not a congratulations, deep down inside I wanted a mere “good luck". Something to say, ode to the time we've spent, ode to the life we've seen, the roads we've traveled and suns we've seen set. But i guess it wasn’t meant to be.

A part of me was nostalgic, and a part of me was scared of things to come.  How would I cope up, and how different would things be. Would I be as carefree or do I have to change myself. The added stripe would not matter if there is no added character, so I was troubled again, as to what improvement should I make. What should I cut out and what should I include more. All these trivial things kept bugging me throughout the past week. And the memories kept haunting me, of things we had planned on this day, the coming months and also the future years.

My grandfather, a veteran himself brought me a pair of new stripes. He had earned them in the true sense of the word. Twice been to war, and battled everyday life to reach such a status. His humble gift and request that “let these be the first ones on your shoulders” left me with a lot to think about and a tear in my eye.  It left me thinking and it left me overwhelmed.

I have a family that loves me. A gang of brothers that adore me. Friends that are joyous at my successes. I only have but to man up, and dive in. I have to go and find out why this made me the way I am today. I have to go and find out what happens next. I am happy no doubt; it reveals newer horizons to be discovered, opportunities to be grasped and heights to be scaled. I guess one way or the other I had to do this alone, and I had to get rid of the past.

I will miss the single gold on my shoulders, not because I don’t feel like moving on, but because I’ve had a special time with them on, a time of my life, a time with no involvement, a time I’ve seen alone. And I will love the double gold. I will work into them. Be what they dictate me to be, command what needs to be commanded.

I will, not just be another idiot, with nostalgia today; I will be ready to climb another step tomorrow.